


While We Live

by cathcer1984



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Giving up a child, M/M, Mpreg, neither happens, talk of a child dying, talk of a main character dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13627239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathcer1984/pseuds/cathcer1984
Summary: Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.





	While We Live

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to M for all her help and ideas.  
> I’m quite certain I deviated from the prompt but it went in a different direction and I took the prompt as a starting point rather than a plot point, if that makes sense? I hope you enjoy it either way dear prompter because I loved writing this!  
> Summary (and subsequently the title) is a quote from Norman Cousins, courtesy of google.  
> Beta’d by [Bad username: �ashiiblack�]
> 
> Written for HarryDracoMpreg prompt: A huge thank you to M for all her help and ideas.  
> I’m quite certain I deviated from the prompt but it went in a different direction and I took the prompt as a starting point rather than a plot point, if that makes sense? I hope you enjoy it either way dear prompter because I loved writing this!  
> Summary (and subsequently the title) is a quote from Norman Cousins, courtesy of google.  
> Beta’d by [Bad username: �ashiiblack�]

Draco looked at the headstone and closed his eyes against the burning tears. “I’m sorry, so sorry that I didn’t trust you.” Draco hung his head and let the tears fall.

He stayed by that headstone for a while. He had lingered after Snape’s funeral to be able to apologise in peace. He hadn’t wanted to start a fight or make people uncomfortable but he felt he had to beg for the forgiveness of the dead man, and he wanted to see him again. To make sure he was alive, to make sure that Draco hadn’t dreamt him up, that the Boy Who Lived was still living.

Patting the headstone one final time Draco turned away. He rested a palm to his stomach. He knew he couldn’t take care of the baby inside him. Not if the Ministry had their way. He had to go into hiding, and give it up.

He clenched his jaw to keep from crying. Draco refused to get attached; he was just the carrier. It wasn’t his baby, it couldn’t be. It was Potter’s and Potter’s alone.

*#*#*

 

Draco watched from the shadows across the street as Potter opened the door and looked at the baby wrapped up in a blanket. He watched Potter lean down and pick up the letter he had written, Look after our son, it said.

With a heavy heart, Draco turned away from Grimmauld Place, barely able to walk, the pain ripping through him from where he’d just given birth was immeasurable. It didn’t take long for him to stagger into an alleyway and collapse. With a muffled sob, Draco let the darkness take hold, knowing that his son was safe.

*#*#*

 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, clenching it into a fist the sharp pain was enough of a distraction to stop from shouting at the baby. It wasn’t his fault he had been dumped on Harry’s doorstep two months earlier and after a barrage of tests at Saint Mungo’s Harry had taken him home.

The baby now had colic and there was nothing Harry could do but he wouldn’t stop crying and all Harry wanted to do was go somewhere silent and dark where he could cry and sleep. Harry hadn’t named the baby. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to claim responsibility and get attached, only for the other parent to turn up and take him away.

However, after two months it was looking less than likely and Harry clutched the baby to his chest as he knelt before the Floo. “The Burrow” he shouted as he stuck his head in the flames, “Molly!” He called when he had a view of the Burrow’s kitchen floor.

Footsteps sounded and Molly’s feet, then legs and finally face came into view, “What is it, dear?”

“He won’t stop crying, Molly. I don’t know what to do any more and I’m going crazy, I just want him to shut up, I want to sleep. I just really want to sleep.”

“Stand back, I’m coming through.”

Harry moved away and seconds later the Floo flared and Molly stepped out. She took the baby and shooed Harry off to bed. After a couple half-hearted protests, he went gratefully. On his way up to his room Harry thought about what the Healers at Saint Mungo’s had said. The baby had been borne by a man, one who had not had any medical attention from them. He had been conceived early May, and Harry was the biological father.

As he lay down in the dark Harry knew when they were talking about, May, the day after Voldemort was killed there had been a big party at Hogwarts, a celebration of life. Harry had slipped away, feeling wrong to be so happy after so many had died and he had taken a bottle of firewhiskey with him.

He had vague memories of hot kisses, strong touches and a hard body beneath his but he had no idea who it was, and when he had woken up in the morning the other man was gone. As he fell asleep, Harry tried valiantly to remember but all that greeted him was darkness.

Harry felt quite rested in the morning as he woke up, and for a brief delusional moment hoped that the baby had all been a dream. Reality set in a moment later, and Harry hurried to the bathroom to take a proper shower before putting some clean clothes on. He ran down the stairs and found Molly in the kitchen, a cup of tea in front of her and the baby on her shoulder asleep.

“How- how did you do it?”

Smiling secretly, Molly just said, “Years of experience.”

He smiled back and watched her hum and rock the baby on her shoulder. She needed this distraction. Fred’s death had been a shock and she wasn’t recovering well from it. No one had known what to do for her, until the baby came and he served as a distraction for Molly, someone else for her to care for.

She sent over knitted clothes and blankets for him, toys from when her children were young. She made food for Harry, so he didn’t starve. Molly had been a godsend and one Sunday at lunch Harry had brought the baby over and Molly was sat in the rocking chair feeding him. Arthur had pulled Harry aside and said, “I know that you don’t want that little boy, that you don’t even think he’s yours. When the results come back that he is, let Molly help more. She needs this, after Fr-”

“I know, she does.”

Since then Harry had asked for her help on everything, and she never hesitated in coming forward with an answer, or three. “See which works best,” she would say and when Harry had enough Molly would be there to babysit, to give him an hour to sleep.

“Harry.” Molly’s gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“You have to name him. It’s been two months, he’s not going anywhere. Name him; it’s not fair to him that you keep calling him ‘Baby’. He’s just a child, and it isn’t his fault. You are his father, care for him, and name him.”

Harry sighed. She was right, he knew she was. But naming someone was a big thing and Harry didn’t want to burden the baby with a name of someone he once knew.

“What about Luke?”

Molly smiled and looked down at the baby, slowly she stood and handed him over to Harry, the baby -Luke - murmured and opened his blue eyes. “Luke,” Harry said. “Luke Potter. Welcome to the world.”

A hand smoothed over his hair and Harry smiled up at Molly before resting his forehead gently against Luke’s, naming him had been a step in the right direction. He was holding his son.

Ever since Harry named Luke, he had taken to parenting like a duck to water and Harry had started to think of Luke as his son. Until Luke got sick and there was nothing Harry could do.

*#*#*

 

Draco’s hands shook as he clutched at the crumpled Prophet he had pulled out of the bin, it was a few days old and Potter looked haggard and upset but it was the headline that caught Draco’s attention.

Potter’s Plea.

Reading the article made Draco feel sick. His baby was dying and he was the only one who could help, the pureblood father Potter was looking for. Draco had gone to extreme lengths to make sure Potter would never know they’d spent the night together, and now he had to come forward or his son wouldn’t get to live and Draco would have given everything up for nothing.

A cough racked through him and Draco wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and stood on shaky legs. He hadn’t eaten in a couple of days, he was dirty from the streets, he couldn’t see his son like this. He wouldn’t let Potter see him like this.

Slowly, carefully he made his way to the back door of the house he was hiding behind. Breaking into it he made sure it was empty before heading to the bathroom, he used their shower and soap scrubbing himself so much his skin was pink but he was clean. Then he washed his hair, twice, until he could see the ends weren’t brown, they were the proper Malfoy blond.

He wandered through the house looking for some clothes, the man was well dressed and obviously much bigger than Draco, so his clothes wouldn’t do. He went into a second bedroom and found that it was a teen’s room. Draco took a pair of black trousers, part of a school uniform, he assumed, and coughing, he put them on and a plain white shirt.

Back in the bathroom, he looked in the mirror, smoothed his still wet hair away from his gaunt face, he looked unwell but he was clean and that was the important thing for now.

Draco picked up his old clothes and left the Muggle house, dumping his clothes in the trash. He walked around London until he came to Saint Mungo’s. The warden let him by and Draco was taken aback by the amount of people in the waiting room.

Reporters, from the Prophet in one corner, other’s claiming to be the father in another, and sick people trying to find the right floor. Draco slipped through the crowds unnoticed and he coughed as he waited for the lift.

He was reading the board trying to understand which floor he needed to go to when the lift dinged and he stepped in. He was alone and his breathing was erratic, his heart was pumping and Draco closed his eyes.

He was scared. What would Potter say? Potter wouldn’t want him to be the father of his kid. When Draco got off, he didn’t know if he was in the right place but he walked around and came across a room that had Aurors outside, obviously to stop unwanted people from entering.  
Not sure what to do Draco hid around the corner, and he heard the door open and Potter saying “It’s okay guys, get some lunch.”

“You sure Harry?”

“Yeah, we’ll be getting some as well.”

Then there were footsteps and the door clicking shut, Draco waited a couple more minutes before heading round. He opened the door and immediately saw the cot on the other side of the room, the baby, his baby was lying still on his back.

Moving forward slowly Draco, reached out to touch the baby when he heard Potter say “Get the fuck away from him.”

Draco turned and faced Potter.

“Malfoy?”

Coughing Draco nodded and Potter put his wand away. “You’re sick, what are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“Too easily.” Draco rasped and allowed Potter to lead him to the bed where Draco gratefully sat.

“Are you in the wrong room?”

Shaking his head Draco looked back over as his baby. “You’re here for Luke?” Potter’s voice sounded faint, and when Draco looked at him, he was pale staring at Draco with disbelief.

“Is that what you called him?” Draco asked, “It’s a nice a name.”

“You- you’re his-”

“Yes. What do you want from me? I’d like to get this done with before anyone knows so I can leave.”

Potter sat down on the bed next to Draco. “You’d leave him. You’d walk away?”

“I did once.”

“Why?”

“I had to. I couldn’t give him anything. The Ministry took everything from me, including my home. I couldn’t care for a child.” Draco coughed again and Potter pursed his lips.

“You can’t care for yourself, either. Lie down, I’ll get a Healer to look at you, then we’ll see if you’re really Luke’s other-”

“He was left on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. In a blanket, and there was a note.”

Potter frowned, “That’s common knowledge.”

“It said, look after our son. He was only two hours old. I held him for an hour before bringing him to you, and I waited until you’d taken him inside. Until I knew he was safe.” Swallowing Draco looked back over at his son and closed his eyes against the tears burning there.

“I never told anyone what was in that note. Not even Ron and Hermione.”

“I told you he was my son.”

“No, Malfoy, he’s my son. Not yours.”

Draco nodded. “Of course, I try to think that way as well. But sometimes I slip and think about him as mine, about raising him as a Malfoy.”

There was a knock on the door and Potter opened it, he spoke quietly to the person and said “A Healer will be here to look at you soon.”

They stayed in silence, broken only by Draco’s coughing, it was eerie. There was a baby in the room and he didn’t make a sound and it broke Draco’s heart, but he was doing the right thing. He kept telling himself that. He was doing the right thing.

*#*#*

 

It was dark when Draco woke, he hadn’t remembered falling asleep. He was warm and comfortable and it didn’t take long for him to realise he was in Saint Mungo’s because his son, Luke, was dying.

He heard the murmur of hushed voices coming from the other side of the room and he peered out from under the covers to see Potter talking with Mrs. Weasley.

“He’s sick, Molly. But he’s Luke’s dad and I can’t get my head around it... why would I? With Malfoy?”

“There, there. We’ve all done silly things in the heat of the moment. What did the Healer say?”

“They said he’s been living on the streets; that he hasn’t fully healed from giving birth and it made him susceptible to illness. Doing the procedure on him for Luke could kill him.”

“But it will save Luke.” Mrs Weasley said and Draco coughed, unable to keep the pretence of pretending up any longer.

“Do it, Potter. Whatever needs to be done.”

“You could die.” Potter came closer and he looked genuinely concerned.

“I need him to live.” Draco smiled weakly. “I don’t need to live, there’s nothing for me to live for.”

“Luke-”

“Is your son, Potter.”

Potter licked his lips and reached out resting his hand on Draco’s shoulder, “He’s our son. In order to be fair to him, he deserves to know us both, and be raised by us both.”

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes, surprised that it didn’t induce a cough and assumed the Healers had done some work while he was asleep. “Noble, Potter, foolishly noble, but not possible. We’d kill each other.”

“We didn’t when we... you know.”

“Had sex? You don’t even remember that.”

“That’s not the point. Hang on.” Potter peered at him and Draco swallowed heavily. “How do you know I can’t remember it?”

“Because I made sure you wouldn’t remember me.”

“You Obliviated me?” Potter asked, his voice tight with emotion.

“I did what I had to do. To protect you, and me.”

Potter looked away from Draco and said quietly, “Molly, could you give us a minute please?” He waited until she had shut the door before looking Draco in the eye and saying, “To protect me?”

“You’d just spent the night after ridding the world of the Dark Lord in bed with a Death Eater. Don’t you see, Potter? As soon as people knew that we’d fucked don’t you think they’d say you were taking the Dark Lord’s place? Bedding Death Eaters and who knows what other horrors.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Can you honestly say that you would have been pleased to see me that morning? That you’d have wanted a second go?”

Potter stayed silent and Draco knew that was answer enough, then Potter surprised him by saying “I didn’t get the chance to make that choice. You made it for me. I can say now, after having Luke that I’m glad because you gave him up and I got my son.”

“Had I thought there was any way you could have possibly seen me as more than Malfoy, that you wouldn’t have slammed the door in my face, I would have been on that doorstep.”

When Potter said nothing and moved only to look over Luke in his crib, silent, unmoving Luke the bright blue light above his head the only indication that he was alive, Draco rolled over turning his back to them. He resolved to talk to the healer about doing the procedure for Luke as soon as possible.

*#*#*

 

Draco was used to pain now.

But this was different. His whole body ached, his magic and his blood were being drawn out of him and were flowing into his son. Luke was still in his magically induced sleep and he didn’t feel a thing but it didn’t stop Draco from watching him, hoping that he’d move or cry, anything to show he was alive.

Potter was sitting next to Luke, not touching him, and the Healer monitoring the two Malfoys watched them both carefully before drawing his wand and cutting the connection. “That’s enough for today. We’ll wake Luke in a couple of hours, Mister Potter, to see if he has responded to the treatment.”

“And what if he hasn’t?”

“Then, unfortunately, there won’t be anything we can do.”

Potter nodded and the healer left, Draco’s head felt heavy and it lolled to side but he was determined to stay awake to see that he was helping his son. He’d given life to him once before and Draco would do it again.

The two hours before the Healer came back were tedious and silent, Potter didn’t say a word and Draco couldn’t. His throat was dry and thick, he kept swallowing trying to work some moisture into his mouth but it didn’t work and he felt parched. When the Healer came back and woke Luke, both Draco and Potter held their breaths and sighed with relief when a loud wail filled the room. Instantly Potter picked him up and tried to sooth him but Luke kept wailing.

Draco looked away, this was one thing he hadn’t counted on, Potter being a dad and caring for his son. Draco never thought he’d bear witness to it and it was breaking his heart.

“Here.” Potter said and placed Luke on Draco’s chest, immediately Draco cradled his son in his arms and rested a cheek on his soft blond hair pressing kisses occasionally. It took him a few moments to realise the room was silent, Luke wasn’t crying. He was blinking sleepily up at Draco, who was thrilled to see his eyes were green.

“Hush, little boy, baby boy” Draco whispered. “Close your eyes and go to sleep. Hush my little boy and go to sleep.” He rocked slightly until natural sleep took over Luke, and when Draco looked up he was surprised to see a blurred Potter.

A gentle hand cupped his cheek and wiped away some of the tears that had fallen, “Do you see?” Potter whispered. “Do you see he needs you as much as you need him? Do you see I need you too?”

Potter leant in and pressed a chaste kiss to Draco’s lips. “I went to see one of the Mind Healers here, when you were asleep, to help me access my memories. Your Obliviate was good, I don’t remember much more than I did before, but I remember approaching you. I engaged, I initiated. Surely that should have told you.”

“I forgot that part,” Draco admitted.

“Well, try to remember because I’m not going anywhere. Our son needs his parents. He deserves both his dads.” Potter sat on the bed by Draco’s hip and stroked a finger down Luke’s cheek. “He’s just a kid, Malfoy. He doesn’t deserve to be sick or be raised by one of his dad’s while the other hides in the shadows. I will stand by you so we can raise him together.”

“I don’t-”

“Hush. Don’t say anything just think about it. I’m not asking for much, just your support in return and friendship. If it becomes more then fine, if it doesn’t. That’s okay too.”

Draco smiled sleepily and rested his head against the pillow, “I don’t think we can be friends. Not after everything,” Potter’s face fell and Draco nudged him with his hip so he could look into his green eyes. “I think something more will come quicker than we’d expect, Harry.”

“I hope so, Draco. Now get some rest, you’ll have to go through it all over again in a couple of hours.”

As he closed his eyes, Draco relished in the warmth. The heat from his son on his chest, the warmth of Harry’s hand on his thigh and the safe feeling that they both brought made Draco hope, just a little bit, that everything would work out in the end.


End file.
